


Starting The New Year With A Bang

by TwiceALady



Series: Hansanna for the Holidays [3]
Category: Frozen (Disney Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Attraction, Aural Kink, Aural Oral, Drunk Sex, Drunken Flirting, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Implied/Referenced Sex, Language, New Year's Eve, Nudity, One Night Stands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:01:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25244329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwiceALady/pseuds/TwiceALady
Summary: Modern AU Hansanna. After getting accidentally locked out of her sister’s swanky New Year’s Eve party, Anna wakes up hungover in her apartment and with a man in her bed.*Prompt fill for Hansanna for the Holidays 2019 - 5. Too Much Wassail*Originally posted December 5, 2019 on Tumblr
Relationships: Anna/Hans (Disney)
Series: Hansanna for the Holidays [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1827499
Comments: 5
Kudos: 27





	Starting The New Year With A Bang

It was the best way to wake up, really. Okay…aside from the nerve-grating headache, it was the best way to wake up, especially to the fresh start of a brand new year. And if this morning was any indication of the year ahead, it was going to be a _great_ year.

She was lying nuzzled in her blankets, toasty warm, the solid, naked form of Kristoff sprawled around her in a sloppy big spoon, his arm draped over her waist, his breath hot and muffled against the back of her neck. She grinned to herself. _Definitely the start of a great year_.

She had been trying to seduce Kristoff into her bed for the better part of last year, the blonde musician— _lead musician of the most popular band in the city_ —was a total catch and a total snack…and totally oblivious to come ons. The guy never had a clue when someone was flirting with him. Kristoff Bjorgman was that guy every girl swooned over, broody and deep, soulful. He was perfect for her…aside from their conflicting work schedules.

Anna and he had been seeing each other non-exclusively for awhile now. Anna had intended to change that. By January 1st, Kristoff was going to be exclusively hers.

And there was no way Anna was going to let anything jinx it, even if Elsa had said she was being stupid and paranoid. What did Elsa know about New Year’s Eve and magic and curses anyway? Elsa was the most skeptical person Anna knew. Everyone else at the gallery knew that if you didn’t bone someone on New Year’s Eve, you’d have a whole year cursed with a dreaded dry spell. No sex. Not even foreplay.

And Anna’s last year had most definitely proved the theory correct, whatever Elsa had said.

_Don’t have to worry about it now! Sex with Kristoff this year! You did it, girl!_

She nearly giggled out loud. Maybe they could start again this morning. Feeling frisky, she wiggled her buttocks back into Kristoff, pleased to feel his prick grow quite stiff against her backside. He moaned softly, still asleep, and his arm moved further up her body and sprawled farther out.

Kristoff repositioning himself gave Anna the opportunity to snuggle into him closer, catching the scent of his skin and the remnants of cologne. She breathed him in deeply. _God, he smells so good_. Notes of bergamot and fresh lemon drifting like a gentle caress in the air between them.

_S_ he silently approved. Kristoff had upped his game for the party, he didn’t smell at all like his usual heavy musk enveloped in cheap drugstore body spray that sometimes made her nostrils tickle and burn. She’d need to find out what he was wearing and encourage him that this was definitely the way to go in the scent department. That he should wear it all the time. That it turned her the fuck _on_.

They were definitely going to bang again this morning if she had any say in it. Hangover headache or not… _orgasms were supposed to be good for headaches, right?_

—Ugh, she should have removed her nightshirt before pressing into him. Though, keeping it on in the morning light might be fun…she quickly checked to make sure she was sans underwear.

_Yes!_

She was trying to decide the best course of action—how she could appear most seductive, how or if she should wake him up—when she noticed his arm stretched out in front of her eyeline, his hand resting on the opposite pillow. _Rather dark arm hair for a blonde…and freckles? Freckles. Kristoff doesn’t have—_

_—Oh shit._

She frowned, raising her head to get a better look. The more Anna stared at Kristoff’s arm, the more the arm wasn’t Kristoff’s. Muscular like Kristoff’s, yeah, but slimmer, streamlined and _my God, the arm porn_ …Anna studied the bones of his wrist, the slight protrusion of veins running along his forearm…those beautiful long, tapered but incredibly large fingers…

All _not_ Kristoff’s.

Not Kristoff’s arm at all, and if the arm wasn’t Kristoff’s, then the man in her bed wasn’t Kristoff.

_Fuck_.

That meant she did not sleep with Kristoff last night after all.

_Extra fuck_.

That meant she had slept with someone else instead.

_Extra double fuck_.

The question now was _who?_

Dreading the answer, she hesitated. She did not want to wake mystery man up yet. Not until she knew who he was and had time to process the information and cultivate a plan of action. She was not the type of woman who did one night stands. The idea of hooking up for the sake of hooking up appalled her… _says the girl who believes in New Year’s Eve sex curses_. That was different. The plan had been Kristoff.

Taking a deep breath, she slowly began to wriggle her way away from, and out from underneath the man. Once free of his embrace, Anna exhaled quietly. All she had to do now was turn and look at him. That was easy enough. She could do that.

_Please don’t wake up yet._

_Please be someone I know_.

_God, don’t be a total stranger…_

She turned her head ever so slightly to catch a glimpse of her bed partner. Her face fell in a mixture of disgust and horror, and she turned her whole body towards him, aghast, needing to somehow confirm that it was not _him_. Somehow, she’d find proof that it was not him _of all people._

She surveyed his face—long nose, equally long, dark auburn lashes to match the mop of auburn hair that was usually styled quite sharp. _Fuck._ The high ‘to die for’ cheek bones, those god damned freckles…the fucking _sideburns… Ugh!_

She ran her hands over her face, trying to calm herself down and keep from screaming in rage. Anyone but him. She’d have taken a complete stranger over him. She was so furious with herself! How could she have?

_What the fuck_ was Hans _Fucking_ Westergaard doing in _her_ bed?

_You_ , some dark part of her mind sniggered.

_Maybe…maybe not_. She began to slide her body further away from him, getting as much distance as she could between them. _Yes_ , she thought reasonably, still sliding her bum to the other side of her bed, there wasn’t any proof she’d actually slept with Hans. Just because her nether region ached and he was naked in her bed did not mean—

She gave a small, repulsed squeak, her leg brushing up against something wet and sticky and cold tangled up in the sheets. _Ew! Ew! Ewwww!_ Jerking her leg out from under the covers, she found the culprit stuck to her leg. A used condom. She inwardly groaned.

_Fuck_.

With a grimace and a dainty hand, Anna peeled the horrid thing off her leg and tossed it into her bedside wastebasket. Meanwhile, behind her, the man she was still trying to deny was Hans was waking up beside her. His body stretched out in a roll onto his back, and he moaned along with a yawn in what sounded like some lazy morning routine, only it was cut short, his body going entirely still, likely realizing he was waking up somewhere he was not supposed to be. Anna froze, back still towards him, listening, and not daring to breathe.

“What the—” he mumbled to himself, the words barely intelligible as she heard him shift his weight quickly. “This isn’t my—”

_Might as well get this over and done with as quickly as possible, like a band aid_. Anna turned to face him, only to find him looking in the opposite direction. She cleared her throat, and he startled at the sound before turning his head towards her.

“Oh… _fuck_ ,” he breathed, his eyes wide and bewildered, but his expression just as horrified as she was sure hers had been. At least the disgust was mutual. She could take solace in that. The look on his face said he didn’t want to find himself here any more than she wanted to find him here. That was good. With any luck, they could part ways and forget this whole thing had ever happened and _never_ speak of it.

He stared at her, his eyes intent on her face, as though she held all the answers to all his unspoken questions. When he finally spoke, she wanted to slap him.

“Why am I still here?”

“Why are you here in the first place?” she demanded, sounding much harsher than she’d intended.

His expression darkened as he sat up, the duvet falling from his bare chest, and Anna hated that her first instinct was to stare at his chiseled, exposed flesh than to turn away and avoid looking.

“Well, that’s a fine ‘ _thanks for helping me, Hans_ ’, if I ever heard one,” he muttered, preoccupied with lifting the blankets to see if he was naked underneath. He gave a dissatisfied snort, and dropped the blanket back into place.

“Pretty sure you got a ‘ _you’re welcome_ ’ last night,” Anna seethed back, unable to help herself, even though she had no recollection of last night, and Hans seemed to know more than her. Ugh. _Hans_. How could it be _Hans?_

He scowled at her, before throwing back the blankets and swinging his legs over his side of the bed. “Look, just because I’m in your bed, sore as fuck and apparently without my clothes, doesn’t mean we— _Eugh!_ ” He jolted backwards as though something had bit his leg, and Anna watched as he leaned over the bed to retrieve _the something_ off the floor. He held up another used condom for her to see, obviously having stepped on it. “—Never mind.” He heaved a sigh. “God…where are the rest of my clothes?”

“Seriously,” Anna began, her irritation not helping her headache. This was always the problem with Hans, nothing was important unless it was important to him. “Why are you here, and I mean, in my home? Because the last thing I can remember right now is my sister’s party.”

“Oh, that,” Hans said, standing up, exposing his undeniably perfect naked ass to her as he continued to search her bedroom floor for his clothing. “I shared my cab with you when you couldn’t get back into the party.” He laughed abruptly, as though he’d just thought of something amusing. “You looked so stupid arguing with the bouncer, stamping your little strappy heeled foot, shivering without your coat—what were you even doing without your coat anyway in the middle of winter?”

“I was drunk,” Anna replied, gritting her teeth. The whisper of a memory coming back to her. It had been after she’d found out in between sets that Kristoff would be playing through the countdown, providing the background music, and that she would not get to kiss him at midnight nor would he be going home with her until well after his gig was over. “I’d only meant to duck outside for a bit of fresh air and then go back in.”

“Oh…well,” he fumbled, sounding a little shamefaced. “Then I am glad I gave you my coat. I just remember thinking what an idiot you were.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“I wasn’t exactly sober myself.” He sounded defensive. “And anyways, I did share my cab with you, and then _I_ ended up being the one to get screwed over.” His scowl was back. “Damn cabbie took off, stranding me here when I got out to help you from the car.”

“You could have phoned for another one.”

“I did, do you have any idea the wait times for a cab in this city on New Year’s Eve? Hours. You invited me in while I waited.” Hans was now on his hands and knees looking under her bed, and Anna, actually really looking at him this time, now noticed his back was a total mess. Nail scratches and hickies—some with teeth indents—all fresh, littered his back, neck and shoulders. All red and vicious. She blanched. _Jesus Christ…I mauled him_.

His head popped up from the floor, and he plopped himself down on the bed in defeat. “Not here.” And she realized he was talking about his clothes. He winced, one hand moving to rub a particularly bad bite mark on the back of his shoulder. “God, I’m stiff this morning. I feel like I did four triathlons in a row—” He shot her a quick look, one that was rather panicky. “I don’t remember last night, like what we did once we got up here. All I know is that you can pour one hell of a drink. You’d be fired as bartender pouring them like that.”

“I’ll remember that in the future,” she quipped dryly, suddenly wanting Hans to find his clothes as soon as possible and leave already. His usefulness had run out. He didn’t have the answers she was looking for, and the sooner he was gone from her apartment without anyone noticing him, the better.

Neither of them knew what had happened, how Hans went from waiting in her apartment for a cab to getting fucked senseless in her bed. She knew sober she’d never give him the time of day, and that he felt the same.

They’d been adversaries for quite sometime now, even though they still moved in the same circles. There was simply no avoiding that. The fact that they had been on a few dates and that she had found him wildly attractive—enough that they’d made out furiously in the gallery’s arboretum—was so far into the past that hardly anyone remembered it, and neither ever brought it up. Both too embarrassed to admit such a thing had happened between them.

She glanced at the bedside clock. _Ten_. People would be up by now. Anyone could catch a glimpse of him leaving if he stayed here any later. _Fuck…if Elsa finds out about this…_ Anna shuddered. She’d never live it down. Elsa would tease her mercilessly for years to come. It was bad enough Elsa still remembered when Anna had briefly—very briefly—dated him.

“Your clothes must be out there.” She gestured to the door which was partially open and led to the rest of her apartment.

Hans gave a bit of a surly growl before snatching the sheet from her bed and wrapping it around his waist. He stalked off towards the bedroom door, and Anna followed. She did not want him rummaging around her apartment without her being present. She may have slept with him last night, but that sure as hell didn’t mean she trusted him.

She let out a horrified gasp seeing the state of her apartment. The place had been trashed. Pictures hanging on the wall were now askew if they weren’t lying on the floor, stuff she’d had on the countertop littered the hardwood. She tilted her head, spying fruit all over the floor and her fruit bowl lying upside down, cracked. Papers and books were strewn everywhere as though they’d been shoved off of every surface in a mad rush.

Hans let out a low whistle. “It’s not my place to say, but you really ought to invest in a housekeeper.”

“It doesn’t normally look like this!” she screeched, rushing past him to pick up now bruised fruit from the floor. “What did you do to my home?”

“Me?’ Hans intoned. “I didn’t do anything.”

“You spend one evening here, and look at this!” She waved her arms around the apartment erratically. “It looks like a tornado hit it!”

But Hans was ignoring her, having found his missing clothes lying on her living room rug. He began to dress himself rather quickly.

“It looks more like we had one hell of a night,” he replied, holding up another used condom that had been hiding beneath his undershirt.

Anna groaned. _Three times? You fucked him three times last night? And…ugh…at least once in your living room? With the curtains wide open? What is_ wrong _with you?_ She wanted to take a scalding hot shower and burn whatever happened last night off her skin and her hazy memory.

Hans was nearly dressed, having located everything but his dress shirt, and stood in her living room, scanning the area intently. She hated how attractive he looked backlit by the mid-morning light in a plain white tee that fit him in all the right places and charcoal grey dress trousers. Even when he wasn’t trying to look fashionable, he was.

“I can’t find my phone.”

“Well, as you can see, I’m a little busy right now,” she grumbled, pretending she’d been retrieving junk off her floor and not eyeing him like candy. Seriously. What was _wrong_ with her? She did not like Hans. She hated him.

Her lip curled, finding her bottle of peppermint schnapps empty. Yup, definitely hated him. She’d just bought that. She didn’t even want to look at the damage in her liquor cabinet, dreading to find out what all they’d drank last night. Everything in there, probably. It was the only way she’d ever sleep with Hans.

And speaking of…

“Son of a bitch!” she cursed loudly, finding yet another used condom on her countertop where her fruit bowl usually sat. Her mood souring with each found condom. It wasn’t supposed to have been Hans she’d humped all night like a rabbit.

Hans looked up from pulling up her couch cushions. “We did it on your counter top?” There was an odd, pleased sort of look on his face as though he was proud of that fact, before he quickly averted his gaze and continued to search her couch for his phone. She was sure she could see him trying to hide his stupid grin by keeping his head down.

She was bleaching the countertop once he left.

“You know,” he began rather conversationally, his hand sliding into the crevices of the couch frame. “I wouldn’t mind a cup of coffee and some Tylenol, if you’ve got it.”

He had to be kidding.

What did he think this was? What did he think _she_ was?

“There’s a great convenience store down on the corner.”

“And you’ve got a French press sitting right there.”

And there it was. That desire to slap him again. Hard.

But he wasn’t wrong, coffee _would_ be nice, and it looked like he wasn’t leaving until he found his dumb phone anyway. Heaving an exasperated and thoroughly exaggerated sigh solely for his benefit, she went into her kitchenette and pulled out a bag of beans.

“Umm…Anna?” he called quietly the moment her back was turned.

_God, what did he want now? A bagel? Breakfast in bed?_

“What?” she snapped, turning around to find him sitting on her couch looking rather pale. His phone, found, and in his hand.

“There’s a video…from last night.”

She slowly put the bag of beans down and made her way to the living room, sitting down beside him, careful not to have their arms touch. She took a deep breath. “Play it.”

Hans hit the play button and they both watched the tiny screen. She was on the screen, still dressed in her little cocktail dress, standing in front of her small kitchen island with a drink tipping in her hand, laughing.

_‘Did you get it?’_ she was asking him.

_‘I think so?’_ Hans’s voice answered. _‘Wait—’_ and he broke into a fit of giggles. Giggles. She didn’t even know Hans _could_ giggle. He was definitely drunk. _‘Sorry, no. I think it’s recording now though.’_

_‘Well, I’m not singing it again,’_ she replied rather haughtily, grinning as she advanced towards him. _‘It’s your turn to sing.’_

Anna cringed, recognizing the sultry look on her onscreen self’s face as she put her glass down on the coffee table and was getting larger into frame on Hans’s phone, obviously crawling onto his lap.

Hans was heard giving a growly bit of a chuckle before speaking. _‘I don’t sing, and unlike you, I don’t even know the words to ‘Auld Lang Syne’.’_

_‘Oh, I bet I can make you sing,’_ onscreen Anna purred.

Anna felt her lip curl upwards as onscreen Hans gave a surprised cry when onscreen Anna was suddenly moving _downwards_. The camera jerked around wildly, obscuring the already poor view with her being so close to the camera to begin with. But when the camera settled, there was no question where Anna’s face was considering the top of her head could be seen on the bottom of the phone’s screen, and onscreen Hans was making little excited noises and taking heavier breaths.

She wrinkled her nose when the distinct sound of a zipper was heard. She felt Hans stiffen beside her, his whole body tensing up as he gulped loudly.

‘Oh! _Ohhhhhhhh_ ,’ onscreen Hans gasped, and judging by the loud slurping noise that followed both knew exactly what Anna was doing to him on the screen. So when the camera jerked wildly again, and was dropped onto the floor so that only the ceiling of her apartment could be seen on the video, it didn’t really matter at that point. They couldn’t see what was going on, but by God, they could still hear it.

Hans was vocal.

Very.

Vocal.

Anna’s eyebrows shot up, her eyes wide with surprise listening to him moan on the video. Really fucking moan. And pant. And grunt. And groan. And gasp. And whimper. And whisper. And dear God, was that what mewling was supposed to be?

_Holy. Fuck._

_No wonder you slept with him four times_.

It only got worse when onscreen Anna had found a proper rhythm, her enthusiastic slurps, licks and sucking could be heard complimenting Hans’s vocals—which were getting much louder and higher in pitch. And it was hot.

So unbelievably hot to listen to.

She shifted in her seat, trying to ignore the zip of arousal tingling through her body, the desire igniting in her veins, her cunt responding to his sounds with slick heat and an urgent throbbing as though she’d not just spent the night being sated by him.

And for the life of her, she could not stop thinking of him, hot and hard pressed up against her when she woke up this morning. The way he smelled and how it had revved her right up for more, even after a night of wild sex.

Add in that sitting together in such close proximity, she could _still_ catch notes of his intoxicating scent _while hearing him in the throws of passion…_

_You do not want Hans. You are not attracted to Hans._

She shot a quick look in his direction to find him sitting stock still, tense beyond belief. His eyes intensely focused on his phone screen. His hand clutching his phone in a death grip. His jaw clenched so tight she could see a muscle in his cheek twitch. She wasn’t entirely convinced he was even breathing he sat so still, but the steady bobbing of his Adam’s apple each time he swallowed—which was a lot—confirmed otherwise.

He looked beyond uncomfortable.

Both of them jumped when the view of the ceiling suddenly moved and shot to black. A jarring, obnoxiously loud skidding sound interrupting the audio. One of them had accidentally kicked the phone, likely Hans, and it had gone shooting under the couch.

The phone being under the couch did not dampen the volume of either of them all that much, and when his voice quickened on the audio, both of them listening knew he was close to coming.

And when he finally did…

Oh, his _words._ She clenched her thighs together _. And the tone._ And God, he was loud.

So loud _._

Her jaw dropped hearing him come. She didn’t think she’d ever been _this_ aroused.

The neighbours had to have been banging on the wall after _that_.

Both sat in stunned silence, Anna barely registering that her onscreen self was asking him if he had condoms when the video had finally reached its time limit and stopped.

Hans was immediately deleting the video from his phone, his fingers trembling.

He spoke first, “So…I don’t normally…uh…I’m not really that—see, I was super drunk…” He shot up from his seat like a rocket, startling her and looking extremely agitated, his eyes wild and cheeks flushed crimson. “Would you… Can I just— _Where’s your bathroom?_ ” Anna pointed to her bedroom where the en suite was. “I just need—”

He didn’t even bother to finish his sentence and bolted quickly towards her bedroom, but not quick enough that Anna didn’t notice the very prominent hard ridge of his cock straining against the zipper of his pants.

_You are not attracted to Hans. You’re not._

_Why_ did she have to keep reminding herself of that?

He emerged from the bathroom several long minutes later, his complexion back to normal, but the hair framing his face was now wet. “Well,” he stated in a rather rushed and shaky voice. “If I could just have my shirt back, I think I’ll be on my way now.”

Anna frowned. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

He nodded silently to her chest and Anna looked down.

_Shit._

Hans’s dress shirt. She was wearing his fucking dress shirt. Not her own pajama top. He’d been letting her wear it this whole time. Even while he was in such a hurry to get dressed and leave. She felt her face grow hot.

“Uh, right, sorry, just a sec.” She dashed to her room to change quickly and give him back his shirt.

Saying goodbye was awkward. She stood at her door in leggings and an oversized T-shirt to see him off, trying to think of something to say. What was one supposed to say to a guy they’d never actually meant to sleep with? Let alone a guy she adamantly hated?

“I won’t say anything about it,” he said. His face serious, but flushing slightly. “Once I’m out the door, it never happened.”

She gave a tight smile, hugging her arms. “Yeah.”

He took a deep breath. “Okay…well, see you around.”

“Bye.” She closed the door.

And he was gone.

And as she stared around her apartment, it wasn’t like it had never happened. Not at all. Nobody else would ever find out about it, _thank God_ , but she still knew it had happened. Suddenly, she was less keen on straightening up her place, and instead decided to check her phone and see what she’d missed out on last night at Elsa’s party. Needing to take her mind off of everything that had happened this morning.

Turning her phone on, she was met with a bombardment of message notifications from Elsa, and a few from Kristoff. Most likely asking what happened to her last night. Eugh…yeah, she did not want to read those right now. Swiping the screen to her Instagram, she paused, staring at the vast number of notifications on the icon, indicating she had made a post recently. Only she didn’t remember posting anything.

_Oh no_.

She tapped the app and it opened to the very thing she did not want people knowing. A post she’d made last night while inebriated.

There, in all its glory, was a selfie of her snuggling up with Hans in the back of a cab. Looking very cozy. The caption she’d wrote made her swear out loud.

‘ _Starting the New Year with a bang!_ ’ …followed by a smirking emoji and an eggplant.

Anna stared horrified at the screen, scrolling frantically through the comments to find dreaded comments from not only Elsa, but Kristoff…and over half of her friend list. Most of it not good.

_Elsa: No. Seriously. No. Answer your phone!_

_Kristoff: What the hell, Anna!?_

She groaned. _Oh fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck._ She was screwed. Utterly screwed. Everyone now knew she’d hooked up with Hans last night.

And then there was one comment from Hans, the time stamp just a few minutes ago.

_Hans: God, it was just a stupid joke. Calm the fuck down. We shared a cab. That’s it._

She exhaled a breath of relief. Her fingers already pulling him up on the direct messages. She typed quickly.

_‘Thnx for the save’_

He responded almost immediately and her heart skipped an unexpected beat.

_‘No problem’_

Anna hesitated, he’d just left and wasn’t that far away, probably not even out of the building yet. Drumming her fingers on her lap, she debated with herself. She probably should just leave it at that, but before she could talk herself out of it, she began typing.

_‘Hey, you wanna grab a coffee?’_

He didn’t respond right away, and _why would he?_ He’d wanted to leave her place as much as she’d wanted him to leave.

_‘Sure... I hear there’s a great convenience store on the corner.’_

Her pulse raced. _Oh my God. He’s flirting_. Her fingers typed back fast.

_‘I have a French press.’_

Seconds later, her door buzzer rang.


End file.
